<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Out Of Joint by Hopeful_Foolx</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190059">Out Of Joint</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Foolx/pseuds/Hopeful_Foolx'>Hopeful_Foolx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>OTP absolute cinnamon rolls [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Picard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Elnor is baby, Everybody Lives, Hugh is alive okay, Hurt/Comfort, I can't tag what else is new, Murder Roll, OTP absolute cinnamon rolls, Panic Attacks, Since it's nearly my job to write fixits, fixit, hand holding, here we go again, seriously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:02:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190059</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Foolx/pseuds/Hopeful_Foolx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Elnor doesn't understand the beeping or the curves on the machine, half the words the EMH of the ship had said, but he doesn't need to. The hand in his is cold, but he can see Hugh breathing. Breathing means he is alive. And alive means everything. </p>
<p>---<br/>aka: Hugh survives thanks to Seven and Elnor, Murder Roll has a lot to think about and Hugh needs a lot of hugs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elnor/Hugh | Third of Five, implied Hugh/Elnor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>OTP absolute cinnamon rolls [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. O curs'd spite</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, hi, not really new fandom BUT first work here!!!! I couldn't let Hugh die, especially not the way it was done. So, ten mintes after watching the episode and preventing my tears from flooding my keyboard, I started typing. This happened. The fic is technically finished, but since it is already written in three parts, I will post them as chapters. Please let me know what you think, but as I've said before: Social Anxiety is a thing, and you don't have to feel bad about not-commenting.<br/>And, as usual, because it's become tradition by now: I am not, by any means, a native speaker of the english language. So if there are any mixed up words or sentences, it's my fault and I'm sorry, and you can point them out to me ^^<br/>One last thing: Especially the first chapter was heavily influenced by @expectedbehavior (go check out her fic if you haven't already, she's a great writer and you get to read Hugh!) and I just want to say 'thank you' for that again :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elnor still feels the warmth of Hugh’s hand against his cheek as he hugs his knees close to his chest, firm enough to make his ribs aching. The memory of that touch lingers, stays, as if it were a farewell gift, an apology for leaving, an apology for … dying? Elnor can’t focus, his thoughts swirl in circles as if his head were an ocean of confusion, full of crashing waves that threaten to pull him down to the depths.  It’s not the deaths, and it’s certainly not the spy he fought when… when Hugh.... He shakes his head. No. The problem is that he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. Is this reaction the reason his Qowat Milat guardians had said he couldn’t be one of them? Is he just too different to be a real qalankhkai? His chest feels so tight, his arms hurt, his legs have gone numb, his eyes sting. What kind of warrior is he, sitting here, far away from the person he bound his sword to through sacred oath? Is Picard even safe? Elnor hopes with all his heart that he is. </p>
<p>
  <em> Please let the sacrifice not have been in vain. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Elnor had never seen someone die like that. Not someone close to him. Not someone he had considered his own friend from the moment he saw the other man’s friendship with Picard, helping the Captain and the girl escape at great risk to himself. He had never lost someone like that, never been close enough to see the light fading out of their eyes, out of a friend’s eyes. He had killed, yes. He had seen and delivered death firsthand, yes. But this was different, in a way he hadn’t been able to reconcile. Elnor always hoped he could avoid the fights he saw coming. He wanted his enemies to choose life, he gave them a choice for them to choose to avoid death by his sword. Their death was a choice.</p>
<p>Hugh wasn’t given that choice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He is alone, for the first time in his life so alone. He had felt lonely before, many times, especially since Picard didn’t come back, but he used that loneliness and pain to fight, to be a better fighter, to be worthy of a cause and to not be alone anymore. </p>
<p>He had felt lonely, but never been so alone. Alone in the darkness, with a lingering warmth on his cheek, like the last breath of a dying man. Was he now, too, a lost cause? </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>It feels like hours until the device he activated to call for help vibrates in his hand and his head snaps up when the familiar light of a transporter beam cuts through the half-light of the room. </p>
<p>Seven of nine has barely been fully transported when he jumps to his numb feet to hug her. She is a living person, a living breathing being here, for him, with him, he is not alone anymore. </p>
<p>He barely feels her hugging him back for a moment before pulling back, asking what happened, asking where everyone was, and he pulls himself together enough to tell her about Picard, Soji, how he stayed back and how Hugh- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wait - you said he was dead?” Her voice is collected and calm and it’s cutting through his panic that he keeps at bay with more force he ever thought he could summon. </p>
<p>“Are you sure? Can you show me where you left him?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He had a knife in his throat, I… I took it out, I shouldn’t have done that and he-” He swallows hard. “He said I’d need an xB to activate the queencell. He wanted to take the cube far away - to safety. The woman killed a lot of people, I stayed to help him but she was watching us, called it a treaty-violation and said she was allowed to kill him now.”</p>
<p>He sees Sevens face, the anger she suppresses with tight lips and longs steps, how her hand is on the blaster on her hip, as if holding on to it. She looks straight ahead everytime he looks at her, turns to look into corridors but doesn’t say a word, until she catches one glance, finally.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s going to be okay, kid. </p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>She looks Hugh over, scanning his body and pressing fingers to his neck, closing her eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The wound is deep, but small enough.” She finally says, looking around the room. “We have nanites in our blood, they can repair minor damage, at least for a time, keeping us in a coma until we can make it to an alcove.” Her face is still tight. “He is borg enough for that to kick in, but there are still Romulans on this ship, and he violated the treaty. Do you remember the way to the queencell?” </p>
<p>It’s too much information to process all at once so he listens and only takes in what he needs. Like the fact that Hugh might still be alive and that he needs to remember the way to the queencell. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know how to get there.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ll keep my beacon. I’ll take care of this, when things have calmed down and Hugh is up, he can gladly take over this again. I am still federation, she can’t kill me, and I am more than able to defend myself.”  He doesn’t ask what lays on his tongue, because she nods to Hughs side and takes one arm, it takes the two of them to holst him up. His head falls forward and Elnor carefully lets it rest on his shoulder. His hair falls in his face, and for the first time he sees the splatters of blood on his lips. </p>
<p>They are moving before he can lose himself too much in the situation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He needs medical care - human one. The borg implants may have stabilized him for some time, but they won’t hold too long, especially since we are moving him around.” Elnor nods and then hums in agreement. It’s not a lost cause. He can get him to safety. Somewhere, anywhere, anywhere is better than here. Anywhere else he can contact Picard, the ship, to get back to them. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. That ever I was born</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An awful lot of waiting for Elnor. Also, EMH and Picard, and Hugh, not reacting well to waking up in places he can't remember getting to</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>GUYS I don't have words to say how grateful I am for your comments and Kudos! I get anxious about posting here really fast and this just helps me so much &lt;3 So here we go with chapter 2 ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Elnor is practically carrying Hugh through the portal, closing his eyes and sending a quick prayer to whoever is listening, before a strange sensation overwhelms him. He doesn’t lose consciousness, nor track of time or his grip on Hugh, but for a moment, his body doesn’t seem to be his own. It feels mismatched, cut off, and he is thrown back in with force, the moment they appear in a forest. </p><p>The sensation is heavy in his limbs, and he has trouble adjusting his senses, it’s bright and so loud compared to the metallic silence on the ship, but familiar, in a way. It’s a planet, with warm air and wind and trees. He has enough time to realize that there are no enemies here, before he staggers sideways and lowers them both to the ground, carefully, Hugh still resting against his side so he still has a hold. His fingers search for the same point Seven did, pressing against a weak pulse and pulling back when Hugh flinches at the contact. He doesn’t open his eyes and maybe he doesn’t even make a sound, and the whispered ‘no’ is only a product of Elnors own, overfocused mind.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.” He doesn’t know who he is assuring of that at this point. But it is the planet, Nepenthe. Picard had gone to Nepenthe, the crew was on their way, so if he wasn’t too late, they could still be here. Maybe he had lost track of time, after all. So he presses his comm, praying, hoping it can patch him through.</p><p>“Elnor to Picard. To… anybody. I need help.” It’s more of a whisper and less of a sob, and he closes his eyes, hoping… hoping… </p><p>He counts the passing seconds of silence in his head, one, two, he counts and counts to seventy when...</p><p> </p><p>“Kid?”  He nearly jumps when the response comes, unmistakenly the voice of Captain Rios. “I have a signal on you, how did you come to be there?” </p><p> </p><p>“This is a long, very long explanation. And we are in dire need of medical help, so please, Captain Rios, please get us on board?” His voice sounds so shaky, so unlike the warrior he wants to be that there is so response. Maybe he should be ashamed. </p><p> </p><p>“Hang in there, I’ll beam you two up right now.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Elnor doesn’t leave the sickbay. He is staring at the Hologram, staring at Hugh, and sometimes in the direction of Agnes. He is aware that he missed something. A lot of somethings. He wants to ask, but he is not sure if he should. Rios asked him what had happened on the cube, and if he was okay, and he wasn’t even sure how to answer them besides retelling the story. He wasn’t okay, and yet he was. Physically he was fine, the adrenaline from the fight faded slowly, without revealing any injury he had missed, leaving only a deep fatigue. He was tired, but fine. But was he? He was fine but he wasn’t okay and the difference was wide like the distance from here down to the planet. He wasn’t okay. </p><p>The captain left him alone when he didn’t answer his last question. But nobody told him to leave sickbay, and so he stayed. Watched, observed, quietly. Picard wasn’t back on board yet. The doctor was unconscious and seemingly in a coma. The EMH treated Hugh with some very interesting wording, and while Elnor didn’t understand most of it, he could guess what it meant. Still, the small machine atop the bed was beeping, the curves were curves and no flat lines. And he saw his friend breathing. The EMH had exposed the injury, and it was small, small enough that Elnor couldn’t help but doubt that it had an effect like this on Hugh. That it nearly killed him. </p><p>The hologram said something about blood replacement, about fluids and as much as Elnor tried to remember and understand, the words made no sense to him. He couldn’t do anything apart from sitting on a chair, arms around his legs and chin on his knees, just the way he had waited on the cube. With the difference that now, Hugh was alive.</p><p>It was not easy to wrap his head around it. How he was alive. Was he when he left him? He had seen the light in his eyes fade, he had seen him die and still… He couldn’t imagine...</p><p> </p><p>“Kid, you’re in a sickbay, do you know what that means?” He is deep enough in thought that the EMH manages to startle him, and he has to brace a hand against the biobed in front of him to avoid falling out of his chair. </p><p> </p><p>“We had… Sick rooms, at home.” Home. It feels like he gone for ages already. “I have to be quiet and not in the way.” </p><p>The hologram sighs and it is another thought that crosses Elnors mind, if he is just a computer program… How does he seem so human? It’s distracting that he looks like Rios, but his clothes are different and that is the best way to tell them apart. He doesn’t smell like smoke. </p><p> </p><p>“No, you’re doing a great job of both already. But you should be clean.” Elnor looks down at himself and back up to the hologram. His clothes are not clean. They are drenched in blood, romulan and human one, in dust and dirt on his knees from the forest down the planet. He should feel disgusted by this, by how he looks and doesn’t care and by the way his sword is in desperate need of cleaning too, but he only feels empty. Hollow. </p><p>“Get a shower, change your clothes. You are likely as stubborn as the rest of this … crew, so I know I can’t convince you to sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t need as much sleep as humans do, I can meditate and focus-” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, I know. But you can’t think and center and meditate away that you have dirt on your clothes and hair. And I don’t want that in my sickbay. Understood? When you’re back I will have finished treating your friend.” He says that with crossed arms, as if it considered manifesting glasses just to be able to glare sternly at Elnor from over the top edges of the lenses.</p><p>He hesitates, and looks down and back at the hologram. And to Hugh. With his eyes closed and pale, pale in a way nobody should look. The implants on his face are a stark contrast, but he is breathing, he can see the rise and fall of his chest. And more remains of implants where the cloth is cut away. </p><p>Carefully, he reaches out and takes his hand without looking away from his face. His fingers trace a fine, circular scar on the side of it. He’s cold. </p><p> </p><p>“I will be back shortly.” Elnor tells him. Even if he can’t hear him right now, and he is not sure about that, he needs him to know it. He needs to know that he is not alone, since being alone is frightening himself, he needs to be sure that at least Hugh knows that <em> he is not alone </em> and Elnor is not leaving him.</p><p>“You will be okay. I need to be clean to stay here, so I will do that.” He gives his hand a squeeze, lingering for a moment, hoping to get a reaction where he rationally knows there won’t and can’t be one. It’s better that there is none.</p><p>He leaves.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t plan of staying away too long, and he doesn’t, but it’s still longer than he had liked. The hot water feels too good to leave the comfort of it, and he takes his time to dry his hair at least enough to put it in a braid. The cool feeling of the ship, the metal under his fingers and the hard floor is not gone, but fading. Picard is still down on the planet, he meets nobody as he walks back to the sickbay. </p><p>Only minor things have changed as he sits down on his chair again, ignored by the EMH who only acknowledged his presence. Dr. Jurati hasn’t moved. Hugh hasn’t moved. He feels slightly warmer now, but maybe Elnor is only imagining it when he takes his spot on the chair again, in the same pose as before, legs up to his chest, chin on them, but more concentrated on his surroundings than last time. Maybe the shower did help with that. </p><p> </p><p>“He’s lucky he’s got you, kid.” This time, the EMH doesn’t startle him. </p><p> </p><p>“I thought him dead, Seven of nine was the one who told me he was alive. She transported him down to the planet.” He isn’t the reason, and the EMH isn’t lying. It’s comforting. </p><p>“But I appreciate your … effort to make me feel better. Thank you.” </p><p> </p><p>“Is it working?” The hologram raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, and Elnor just continues to stare at him. </p><p> </p><p>“I did not expect the question. But… It is. Strangely.” It, or he, Elnor isn’t sure at this point, huffs a smile. It’s not a laugh, more of a hearable smile and it is… interesting. Before he can tell him that, <em> he </em> continues.</p><p> </p><p>“And… You called in the cavalry.” He wants to ask, but remembers after a second that the hologram had been here when he told Rios the whole story, since Elnor didn’t leave Hugh. “You also brought him here, right on time. That seal didn’t hold for any longer. I’m surprised it did. His implants were offline for some part there, and it’s likely he’s going to need some time until everything has fixed itself there.” </p><p> </p><p>“You mean until he is healed.”  It comes out more as a fact than as the question he was intending.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, kinda. There is still a lot of machinery in him, and it saved his life.”  The holographic doctor taps the monitor. The lines don’t make sense to him, the numbers and sounds are just confusing. He relies on the steady rise and fall of Hughs chest, he relies on the cold but dry feeling of skin on skin when he takes his hand and decides that he doesn’t want to let go. He relies on what he can see of the situation, not on a screen he doesn’t understand. Even if he feels like he shouldn’t trust himself with it. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure he will be grateful for it, and for your help.” It comes out sharper than he wants it to sound, but machinery isn’t something he is very fond of thinking about. He knows only some things about the Borg, and here he is, with an injured not-anymore-Borg, who nearly died of a small knife-wound. Everything he has ever heard about the Borg sounds strange in comparison to this. </p><p> </p><p>The time seems to pass slower here, and he takes the time he needs to meditate. His body is not tired, but his mind has difficulties to cope and it feels wrong, like he shouldn’t have them. They stay, and they leave a trace even when he drags his thoughts back to the sickbay, when steps arrive. He heard the steps before, unique, since everyone had their own sound while walking, he heard them on stone and wood and carpet and the metallic floor of the ship. It’s Picard. He’s back from the planet and he seems… fine. Not hurt. Not harmed in any way. Maybe he accomplished at least something. </p><p>Picard is standing in the doorway, his face a mask of scepticism. </p><p> </p><p>“We returned two hours ago.” He tells him. “Seven of Nine is on the cube, Hugh couldn’t… activate the queencell again. The hologram said he would survive, but needs time for it.” </p><p> </p><p>“What happened there after we left?” Elnor looks down at Hugh again and back to Picard, takes a deep breath and tells the whole story again, for the second time here and for the millionth in his head. About the murders, Hugh, Narissa, Hugh, Seven of Nine, the queencell, the planet, the ship, Hugh, the EMH. </p><p> </p><p>“She killed the xBs? All of them?” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know that, there were a lot of bodies but Seven of Nine said she would take care of the others. I don’t think all of them are dead.” He feels his stomach turn with the image from mere hours ago. Hugh in front of the bodies. Not reacting until Elnor touched him. Anyone could have come and taken him. Killed him. Anyone. And nobody did. </p><p> </p><p>“Keep an eye on him for me, Elnor, please. I didn’t think my actions would... “ He stops and shakes his head, swallows and shakes his head again. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen.” </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you could have prevented it. It was your mission, and it was mine to protect you. He was in the middle, and I don’t like it.” He keeps his hand on Hughs, his fingers tracing the circular patch of scarred skin on his palm.  “Is the synthetic safe?” He saw them leave, so she should be. And he hopes she is, because if not, the whole mission was for nothing. The xBs died for nothing. And Hugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Soji’s on the ship with us, yes. She is still shaken, as one would expect, but I’m starting to think she may trust us. In time, at least.”  Picard is still standing, Elnor sitting, their roles should be reversed. </p><p> </p><p>“Good.” He wants to say more and sorts the words, outs them into place to be accurate and short, to make the most use of them as he always did. Words usually come to him when they should, but right now they are not. His thoughts are too chaotic to voice them.</p><p><br/>“Elnor… Are you okay?” He looks at Picard again who has come closer, reaches out a hand to put it onto his shoulder, and for a moment Elnor is back down on the planet again, listening to stories about heroes and musketeers, for a moment he is a child again, who looks at the questioning smile and tells it everything, the child who trusts Picard and who sees him as the only hero he will ever need. The child who waited when Picard never returned. The child who still keeps the books and learns a language just to read them over and over again, in Picards voice, imagining him being there and doing exactly what he does now, imagining him putting a hand on his shoulder and asking what is bothering him. </p><p>But he is not that child anymore. </p><p>“I thought he was dead, and left him. I was… Helpless. It won’t happen again, I promise.” He stares at the floor. Metal. The hand is gone a moment later and Picard sighs deeply. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” </p><p>It’s the truth. He is tired, too confused to put into words what he thinks. He needs to think, process. </p><p>Picard leaves them after that and Elnor is once again alone with Hugh, eyes still closed, and still somewhat lifeless and pale. The screens still show waves and numbers, and Elnor still traces the scar with his finger. It’s different than the others. </p><p>Some time later, it’s not much but since he is in no particular hurry it also doesn’t matter, he falls into the comfortable state of meditation again. Again, he doesn’t let himself go completely, he is still half aware of his surroundings, and the touch, waiting for any change.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It’s cold and warm, it’s quiet and loud, he doesn’t know the voices are in his head or not. He can’t move, his body doesn’t listen to his commands and his thoughts swirl in circles, he can’t focus he’s back, he’s back in the collective <em> Nononono please no, i can’t please don’t make go back no please no let me go I can’t go back don’t make me </em> .  Somehow he forces his eyes open and it’s too bright, too bright too bright they are changing him back <em> don’t please don’t no please no </em></p><p> </p><hr/><p>When it comes he is on his feet in an instant. Hugh is moving, one hand pressed to his head and talking, words that don’t make sense except for the repetition of “no, no, please no”, and though his eyes are open he doesn’t seem to see anything. </p><p> </p><p>“Hugh!” He puts his hands on his shoulderblades to hold him down, hold him still, afraid that he falls off the bed or hurts himself, he doesn’t even know. </p><p>“It’s alright, you’re safe, it’s alright!” He tries to reach him, but for somebody who was unconscious for hours he has a surprising amount of strength. It’s still not enough to push Elnor away, but enough to prevent him from more than holding him down, preventing him from anything else than talking, quietly, carefully. “Please, my friend, you’re alright, stop!” But the answers stay the same, like he can’t hear him and only fights out of pure instinct, like he is back on the cube and Elnor is Narissa, and it hurts Elnors soul to see him like that. By the time the EMH appears and a hypospray is pressed to Hughs neck, Elnor has somehow reclaimed his hand and holds it in his again, leaned half on the bed with his elbows on the mattress. He tries to catch a spark of recognition in Hughs eyes before they fall shut again, but he is asleep a moment later. </p><p>Elnor stays put and unmoving for a few minutes and turns to the EMH again, with a decision he had already made an hour ago-</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to take him to my quarters to look after him. It’s easier.” It’s not. It’s just more private, more comfortable, the light is different and the machines don’t confuse him, but he pretends that this is not the truth. Pretending is better.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. to set it right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hugh gets hugged and Elnor is ... Baby.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sooooo... Here we go, last chapter! I'm super thankful for all of the kudos and commets and reactions to this little fixit, and I hope a bit of fluff can help in these weird times. I have like... Some WIP that will apear in this series once I finish them, and one of them is literally just tooth-rotting-fluff-stuff. <br/>Enjoy this!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hugh doesn’t expect to feel something. He doesn’t expect to feel softness against his fingers or his head or to even have fingers and a head. He doesn’t expect to be alive, and his thoughts only drip like honey, coming to that conclusion. That he is alive. He doesn’t know why, or why he shouldn’t be, and he doesn’t care because everything is soft and that is not normal but also not bad. He hears something or maybe someone shift, the rustling of clothes and the sensation of softness shifts too. If there is someone here, he should maybe alert them that he is alive when he shouldn’t be and also aware of their presence. It only seems polite to tell them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opens his mouth to speak, to say something useful, but the moment he tries to use his voice, there is something locked in his throat, </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Someone is next to him and a cup is pressed to his lips, the sweet liquid helps against the feeling of sand in his throat, and he wants to muster up the strength to thank whoever is there, when the person himself starts to speak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The hologram said you’d need fluids.” The cup is there again and he blinks to look at a very dimly lit room and the face of a young man in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is just tea, then you can continue to sleep.” Sleep sounds like the best word he has heard in a long time, and then the kid is next to him but behind him and he is too tired to concentrate, swallows some more tea and falls asleep again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>He is more aware of things when he comes to again, even though his first conscious feeling is not more than confusion. Normally he wakes up at the chime of his alarm, if he is not already awake. All the voices, all the working people, all the questions keep him up a lot, and he never really gets enough sleep. If he does, dreams wake him nevertheless. In any way he is not used to waking up like this. Warm and tucked in. Which is weird, until he realizes that he could assess the situation, if he would just open his eyes - to see what he missed. His room with bare walls, iron bars, a table and a chair, a drawer with mostly identical clothes and two photos, tucked away. His only personal belongings beside a grey Padd that wasn’t delivered by the romulans. His secure link to a friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hugh doesn’t open his eyes to his room, and it takes him only a second to realize that. The walls are too close, the light is too soft. It’s not the stark white or sickly green light of the cube. The bed feels different. The nightstand has a vase with artificial flowers in it, this is not his bed, this is not his room, this is no room on the cube and he is not with the others but he should and he is not and- The movement of shooting upright makes him so dizzy that a sharp bolt of pain shoots through his head, not helping his confusion and the settling panic, the memories that come back with too much force.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where… Where are…” He looks around and it’s still not his quarters. It’s not the cube and he should be on the cube - he has to be on the cube. He needs to be on the cube- The blankets are tangled between his legs and he can’t get them off, he is trapped and he can’t move-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Picards ship.” A soft voice cuts through before the panic can overwhelm him completely and he turns around fast enough to make the foreign room spin and himself flinch as the pain in his head intensifies. He closes his eyes, and then there is a hand on his arm, steadying him, an arm around his shoulders, comfort. It’s just enough to lean him against something solid before his warm presence is gone again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to be scared.” Elnor, he remembers Elnor well. He was the last face he saw before he died, after all, but that he is buried in a pile of blankets, panicking that they are choking him in a foreign room means that he is not as dead as he should be. The young man comes closer again and sits down on the bed, carefully pulling away the cloth from his tight grip and untangling it from Hughs arm and hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just a blanket… You were cold, I thought it would help. I am sorry if I made you feel trapped.”  He settles next to Hugh again on the bed, close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the blankets smooth again, the weight lifts off his chest a bit, but there are too many questions, too much unfamiliarity around him to dissolve the panic completely.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we? I need to be on the cube, the xBs need me, I can’t leave them when that woman-” He needs to take a breath in between because there is not enough air in his lungs to talk and he is in a place he doesn’t remember going to- </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Seven of Nine took care of it. She is Starfleet, Narissa couldn’t harm her when she came on board, and she told me to take you away from there. She told me that there were still remnants from the technology in your body, something she called “nanobots”. They repaired the hole in your neck for long enough to get you to the ship, Picards ship. She activated the portal to send us here. You had a … reaction to the sickbay when you awoke there, and I proposed taking you here. These are my quarters. This was yesterday. You slept for thirteen hours afterwards.” Elnor speaks in a matter of fact voice, and it sounds practiced. The mention of Picard makes his heart jump a beat, and it dawns on him that thirteen hours is a long time and that Elnor told the story before. Just not to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hughs head is spinning from all the new information and he needs to adjust. Elnors room. That particular part of the story is stuck at the top of his thoughts somehow. Besides the thirteen hours - first, because he feels like he slept that long and like he could sleep even more. Secondly because he doesn’t even know when the last time was that he even slept more than half of that. He feels like he should tell Elnor this, mostly as an excuse for occupying his bed for so long. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t react well to… waking up in places I don’t know.” He says instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have a sharp mind, the mind of a fighter, I understand that you need to be aware where you are and how you got there. Picard told me to keep my eyes on you and I am glad I did.” Picard. Picard… He wants to ask but he doesn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Absolute Candor. That was another part that stuck a cord with him. The concept of lies still somewhat frightened him, how easy they were to miss even while </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elnors voice was calm and quiet, he was not in his head. He was real. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I owe you my life now.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There is no debt here, my friend.” He smiles a thin smile that breaks his smooth features and that Hugh has never seen before but instantly wishes he could see again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need more sleep, the hologram told me it might take a few days before you are up and about again. The nanobots and the EMH repaired the damage, but you apparently lost a lot of blood and your mechanical parts are not used to help you like that anymore.” Anymore. Picard. Thirteen hours. Tired, so, so tired and confused.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I do feel like I should sleep, but I am…” n</span>
  <em>
    <span>ot sure if I can sleep here</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I don’t want to occupy your bed.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about that, I am meditating. And if I feel the need, there is still plenty of space on the mattress.” He says, again in that tone with so much matter of fact that Hugh could only look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The holographic doctor gave you a sedative in the sickbay. Perhaps you are worried about sleeping? I had… nightmares as a child. I was relocated and my family died. I can’t remember much, but I sometimes dreamt of them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you telling me this?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you talked in your sleep, and I feel like you had nightmares too. Perhaps it would help you to know that you are not the only one, and that I do get them still, sometimes. When I was a child, one of the nuns used to stay with me during the bad nights, it helped. I am going to stay right here, in case you have one.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, kid, listen-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the young man already laid his sword down next to the bed and sits down on it, cross legged, next to him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was not asking, Hugh.” He looks at him and Hugh can’t keep himself from staring right back, until a hand on his arm makes him look down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was… scared I’d lost you.” He sounds small admitting that, which says a lot about the man who is definitely taller than him. But, well, many people are. “I was very sure you were dead, and when seven of nine appeared and told me you were not, I didn’t believe her.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If it helps you in any way - I am surprised to be alive as well.” He wraps his hands in the blanket again, feels the material between his fingers. He should ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was… Was Picard… Here?” It sounds more hopeful than he wants it to. Picard and Soji. He is tired enough that the thought of- of what happened on the cube can be shoved away for now. For a moment, at least. It won’t be a long one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He was.” Elnor tilts his head to the side. “He was very concerned, and he asked a lot. He also brought the synth we were looking for here with him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Soji.” He murmurs, her name heavy on his tongue. Synth. He didn’t even know. How could he not have noticed? He had watched her for so long and he didn’t notice. How? Elnor shifts beside him, he is even closer now, looking him over with worried glances.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, she is here. Do you want to see Picard? Or Soji?” Hugh relaxes against the headboard and closes his eyes again. Does he? The choice is his. He could. He could see Picard and rip the metaphorical bandaid off, but...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no…” He isn’t even sure why he says no. Partly because he is tired. Partly because Picard and Soji… He still feels the gun pressed to his chin, the sensation of cold metal to his skin, he still feels it, the moment he wanted to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>brave</span>
  </em>
  <span> and looked her in the eye without saying a word, internally just repeating the same phrase over and over, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You will be fine, they won’t do anything, they won’t kill you, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine my friends, my family, they won’t hurt you, they can’t hurt you</span>
  </em>
  <span> , through the weak mental link again and again and again, until </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m bored </span>
  </em>
  <span>and - his eyes fly open and he sits up straight again, all air seems to have left his lungs at once and he can’t breathe, he sees them again right before his eyes, again, the holes in their bodies the burning holes from the romulan disruptors, he smells it, he feels-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An arm around his shoulders. Hears a voice, calling out… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And realizes that he is on the ship. In Elnors room, next to him, on his bed, and he is… is he holding him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sucks in a breath, and then another one, and another and he is breathing too fast now, instead of not breathing at all, and there is a second voice now but he doesn’t want to look anywhere. It seems impossible.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hugh… Please, tell me what’s happening, Hugh!” The motion of turning his head to the side hurts but he does it anyway, staring at Elnor, his wide eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” He rasps out, too late, too slow, too wrong and too lied to be even remotely close to the truth, just to flinch hard enough to make Elnor grip him harder when there is another person next to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are experiencing the signs of a panic attack, so I don’t think you qualify as </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span> here.” He doesn’t know the man, but Elnor seems to, and Elnor helped him before and he saved his life and he is on a ship in a room he doesn’t know but he is not alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you to make him rest when he wakes up, young man?!” Hugh realizes that it is a hologram a moment later. And emergency one, most likely. Medical. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, I just… Had to…” His breathing slows down, the tightness lessens and while he still can’t relax, he breathes calmer now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Computer, disable EMH!” Hugh looks at the protesting hologram as it flickers out and relaxes a bit again. He is bone deep tired, even more now, but there is still the matter with Elnors arm around his shoulders and the curious fact that he doesn’t want him to let go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The artificial doctor was here a few times while you were asleep.” He informs him and Hugh just nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want to be alone?” He wants to say yes, to be himself, be strong be- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shakes his head so hard it starts to hurt worse than before. Not alone. Everything, but not alone, not on his own again. Not after what happened, not after all this time. He isn’t stupid, he knows that Elnor will leave too, everyone will at one point and he will always watch them leave as they break his heart to pieces. But not now, it’s a discussion and a train of thought for a different time, not for now. He can’t. He can’t be alone right now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to admit that I don’t think your answer would have mattered. I don’t intend on leaving.” He is still holding Hugh, and Hugh knows he should protest. He shouldn’t like this, and definitely not enjoy it. He shouldn’t wish for it to continue and stay and be repeated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just closes his eyes again and swallows against the pain in his throat and the lump building up in it. He is so tired. Deeply deeply tired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your cause wasn’t as hopeless as I thought.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Even as I thought you were dead, Seven of Nine showed up. I’m starting to think that no cause is truly lost.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How so?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Picards cause is not lost. Yours is not. You are not. I don’t understand how a cause can be truly lost, when there is still so much hope.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hope, a nice word, a nice thought. Elnor continues to explain something about hope, but the word only repeats itself in Hughs brain. Over and over and over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hope. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just… Hope.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading ^-^<br/>Maty<br/>If you want to shout at me, I am on Tumblr as @strangestarlightmusic and on Twitter, as @hopeful_foolx</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>